


The Blind Man and the Painter

by justabrain



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Car Accidents, Hospitalization, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Surgery, The Sound of Music References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-15 01:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11795235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justabrain/pseuds/justabrain
Summary: "A blind man teaching an android how to paint. That's gotta be worth a few pages in somebody's book!" - Will Riker





	1. The Very Beginning

The first sign Geordi had that there was someone else sitting in his normal spot was the soft scratching of a pencil on paper. The second sign was his cane knocking into the stool that was normally so carefully tucked in under the bar. 

“Excuse me,” he started, and the scratching stopped. “Would you mind moving over a seat or two? You’re in my normal spot, and I’ve found that sitting elsewhere can throw off my perception of the café,” he explained, gesturing vaguely towards his sunglasses with his hand holding the cup of iced coffee.

“I do not mind.” The response was immediate and was quickly followed by the slight rustling of a notebook being closed.

“Thanks.” He heard fabric brushing against itself, then waited a second longer before lightly touching the stool and sitting.

After a few moments, the sound of pencil on paper returned, and Geordi listened to it. It fit in surprisingly well with the rest of the sounds that filled the coffee shop. There was randomness to the order of the sounds, the tinkling of the bell by the door, the hissing of the steamer, the gurgling of the drinks being poured into cups, the scratching on the paper, and yet together, they held an almost musical quality. He sat in silence a little while longer before curiosity got the better of him, and he turned slightly to where his artist neighbor sat.

“Sorry to bother you again, but what are you drawing?”

The scratching stopped, and the pencil was set on the counter. He thought he heard the notebook be picked up, but it was drowned out by the person’s even voice.

“I am drawing this coffee shop. I first drew the view as one enters. I then drew the view while ordering. Then I drew the view from the table in the corner. Now I am drawing the view from these stools.”

“Huh. So’re you an architect or…?”

“No. I am an engineer. However, I desire to become more creative. Drawing is often cited as an activity that encourages creativity.”

“I see. So how’s that coming for you?”

“I have been drawing for 1 hour, 36 minutes, and 49 seconds. In that time, I have drawn each perspective in multiple styles of drawing. However, I do not believe I have received what one might term a ‘creative spark’.”

“… So, not great.”

“No. I am beginning to suspect that what others have said is true: I am incapable of true creativity.”

“Now hang on, I wouldn’t jump to that conclusion quite yet. Creativity is something that needs time and patience to develop. It’s not necessarily something that happens all at once!”

“I see. In that case, I shall continue my efforts. Thank you for the advice.”

Geordi shrugged. “No problem.” As their conversation lulled, he struggled to think of something else to say to keep talking to this smooth voice that refused to use contractions. “I could help you if you want,” he finally blurted, and he immediately kicked himself. _‘Help’ him? How could a blind man help someone who’s trying to_ draw _? Really thought that one through, Geordi, nice—_

“I would appreciate the guidance. Thank you. My name is Data Soong.” Geordi nearly burst out laughing in disbelief, but turned it into a cough. “Are you alright?” the person — Data — asked, concern lacing his voice.

“I —“ _cough_ “I’m fine. Geordi.” _cough_ “Geordi La Forge. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It is nice to meet you as well.”

 

———

 

> Hello. This is Data Soong.

>> Oh, hi! I didn’t expect you to text so quickly.

> If you would like me to wait until more time has passed since our meeting, I would be willing to do so.

>> No! No, it’s fine.

> Then you would like our correspondence to begin? Or, as it has already been initiated, to continue?

>> Yeah, I would. :)

>> I mean, as long as you are.

> I would also like for it to continue. I am curious as to why you offered to help me develop my creativity. I have often explained my endeavor to others as well; however, you are the first to offer assistance.

>> I dunno. It sounded interesting, I guess. And you seem like a cool guy who’d be nice to be around.

> On the contrary, I am neither cold nor warm.

>> hahaha ok, Mr. Literal. I /meant/ you seem interesting. In a good way of course.

> I see.

>> So... Are you from around here?

> No. I moved here three months and twelve days ago...

 

———

 

Stepping down off of the bus, Geordi paused while Data opened his umbrella. A moment later, Data arrived next to him, and the fabric of his rain coat crinkled as Geordi rested his hand in the crook of Data’s elbow. 

“So, tell me,” Geordi started, “why did we come all the way out to _this_ art store, instead of one of the closer ones?”

“This store is much larger than any of the others. I believe that we will have a better chance of finding what we are looking for here.”

Geordi moved a bit closer to Data as they walked, telling himself it was simply to be more completely under the umbrella. “What exactly _are_ you looking for? We could spend a long time in here otherwise.”

"I am looking for something to more effectively inspire creativity. The door is slightly to the left.”

Following him, Geordi stepped up, and the door slid open with a whoosh of warmer air. "So not just new pencils I take it.”

“That is correct.”

“But you don’t have any other ideas?”

“That is also correct.”

Geordi thought for a moment. “Well, start at the very beginning, right?” he said with a half-grin. 

Data paused. “I do not understand. Although I still lack creativity, I believe I have made progress in my skills. Therefore, why should I desire to ‘start at the very beginning’? Would that not be counterproductive?”

“I didn’t mean— It was a reference, Data. _The Sound of Music?”_

“I have listened to much music, however—“

Geordi waved his hand to cut Data off. “No, _The Sound of Music_ is the title of a musical. Are you telling me you’ve never seen it?”

There was a rustle of fabric that Geordi interpreted as a shrug. “I have not.”

“Man… I gotta get you up-to-date on some musicals. There’s a song in there that says that starting at the very beginning is ‘a very good place to start’. It’s saying that you should start with what you have right now, which for you is drawing.”

“I see. The drawing supplies are towards the right,” Data stated.

The two walked in a comfortable silence for a minute, until Data slowed in one of the aisles. “There are 19 different types of pencils, with multiple brands of each, as well as approximately 42 varieties of paper.”

Geordi let out a low whistle. “Well, you wanted something for creativity, right? Is anything here helping?”

Data was quiet for a moment before responding. “I do not believe so. It seems that in my case, ‘starting at the very beginning’ has failed to work.”

“Hang on a second,” Geordi said, adjusting his posture. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. ‘Start at the _very_ beginning’!” A smile spread across his face. “Forget drawing. You, my friend, are going to start with crayons.”

“I fail to understand how reverting back to a child’s media will help inspire my creativity.”

“That’s just it though! Have you ever talked to a kid? They’re _so_ creative!” Data offered his arm and they started for the children’s area. “My niece is five, and you wouldn’t believe some of the stories she comes up with. They have monsters in them and superheroes and spaceships and all sorts of things. That kid is going to be a writer someday, I swear. She’s pretty darn cute too,” he added.

“Geordi… How are you aware of this quality of her appearance?”

A grin split across Geordi’s face. “She has to be. She’s related to me after all!”

“I see. I agree that you are aesthetically pleasing, so I believe your interpretation to be accurate that she is as well.”

_Did he just call me_ cute _?_ Geordi quickly replayed what Data had said. _Aesthetically pleasing._ Maybe not the most eloquent compliment, but Geordi wasn’t about to refuse it from Data. 

“Thanks,” he said with a laugh.

They turned into one of the aisles and slowed. Geordi could hear a mother and her child half way down the aisle, but quickly focused back on Data. 

“Ok, Data, I want you to grab the biggest, fanciest thing of crayons there is. You are going to create a masterpiece.”

“With crayons?”

“With crayons.” Geordi grinned. 

While Data was fetching the crayons, Geordi’s attention drifted to the child nearby.

“Mommy?” he was attempting to whisper.

“Yes, Bobby?”

“Why does that man look different?”

She quickly hushed him. “Don’t be rude. That’s just how he is.”

Geordi tried to suppress his sigh. He debated whether or not to approach the child and explain about using the cane and being blind, but before he could decide, Data returned.

“This box contains 120 different crayons, as well as a location in the back for one to sharpen them. I believe this will suffice.”

“A crayon sharpener? That _is_ fancy!”

“Indeed. Do you have any other suggestions for how I might cultivate my creativity?”

Geordi thought for a moment. “Well, painting is a pretty classically creative thing. Have you tried doing that yet?”

“I have not. Shall we proceed?”

“Yes, we shall,” Geordi said with a small laugh.

A few minutes later, Data had picked out some of the “approximately 267 individual hues” of paint to try, and they walked out to the bus. It had stopped raining, so Geordi’s hand was joined by the handle of the umbrella in resting on Data’s arm.

“Thank you for accompanying me today,” Data said as they slowed to wait for the bus. “Your advice was very helpful.”

Geordi smiled. “Anytime, Data. Anytime.”


	2. Chartreuse

Tasha set down her pencil with a decisive _thwack_. “Ok, this is getting ridiculous. You gonna tell me who it is already, or do I need to steal the other earbud and listen to the texts myself?”

“Who what is?”

She snorted. “Don’t play dumb with me, Geordi, you know exactly who I’m talking about. It’s not just anyone who’s going to make you smile like that whenever you listen to their text.”

Geordi straightened in his seat and pulled his hand away from the phone. “It’s not like that! We only met a few days ago. I just like talking to him, that’s all.”

“Ooo, ‘him’? What’s he like?”

“I dunno… He’s nice. His voice is nice. But we’re _friends_ , that’s all.”

“Right. In those few days of knowing him, has there been a single lull in conversation—”

“Yes.”

“—that wasn’t caused by class, or work, or sleeping?”

“… No.”

“And you’re still going to try telling me ‘it’s not like that’?”

“It’s not!” Geordi protested over her laughter.

“Ok, ok!” Tasha paused, then the table creaked as she leaned forward. “What’s his name?”

“It’s not—! Ugh.” A shy smile crept onto his face as his hand inched towards the phone. “It’s Data. We met at a coffee shop when he was sitting in my normal spot, drawing different areas of the place. Said he was trying to become more creative, so I, uh…” He cleared his throat, then mumbled the rest of the story. “I-volunteered-to-help-him.”

“You… volunteered to help him? Did I hear that right?”

Geordi nodded.

“Ya know, Geordi,” she started, choking down her laughter, “I might have to write that one down as the most ridiculous excuse I have ever heard a crush-addled brain come up with for how to keep talking to someone.”

Geordi’s face grew warm, but he laughed with her. “Yeah… But it worked, so it couldn’t have been that ridiculous!”

At that moment, Geordi’s phone buzzed, and he was half way to listening to it, before pausing. Tasha laughed. “Go ahead, answer it. I’ve only met 2 girls who’ve made me as eager to read texts as you are. I can tell you later what happened with them,” she teased, gathering her notebooks and pencil. “For now though, I can see we’re not going to get much studying done, so I will leave you to your totally-not-a-boyfriend. Bye, Geordi.”

“See ya, Tasha,” he replied with a smile, and he opened the text.

> My apologies for the delayed reply; I was detained in conversation with a superior. I also am not an only child...

 

———

 

Geordi lazily ran his fingers in swirls and shapes over the surface of the suede couch, while Data stood a few feet away in front of an easel. The room was quiet, save the soft purring of Spot and the occasional clinking of paintbrush and pot. 

“Geordi?”

“Hm?”

“I have finished my painting of the tree.”

“Really? That was fast. Wanna describe it to me?”

“It is an exact representation of the tree outside of Yin and Yang Café as it appeared yesterday morning when we were there. The first branch starts approximately one third of the way up the tree. That branch then splits approximately one quarter of the way—”

“Ok, first off, we _need_ to work on how you describe things,” Geordi said with half a smile. “It sounds like a very…” he paused, searching for an appropriate word. “…realistic tree. Which is fine, don’t get me wrong. But, Data,” he said, sitting up and unintentionally disturbing Spot, “painting isn’t just about putting an image that you see onto paper with paint and brushes. You need to put something of yourself into it. That’s where the creativity comes in.”

“Ah. Do you have any suggestions for my next attempt?”

“Maybe… Oh! Isn’t there some famous painter who did things with color?”

Data paused. “Geordi, _all_ painters do things with color. That is one of the key principles behind the art.”

“Well, yeah, but I mean one in particular who painted things in weird colors.”

“Are you perhaps referring to the mid-20th century painter Andy Warhol?”

“Yeah, him! You could do it like him and paint something in weird colors. Spot, for example.”

“Huh. And what color do you suggest that I start with?”

A smile grew on Geordi’s face. “Did you just ask me, a blind man, to choose a color for you?”

“I—”

“Wait, no! I want to do this. Uh…” He pointed in the general direction that he remembered Data laying out all the colors he had gotten. “That one.”

Data stepped over to the table where Geordi was pointing and picked up one of the bottles. “Chartreuse?” he said, reading the label.

Geordi paused, and let himself enjoy the fact that his aim was spot on. “Yeah, chartreuse.”

 

———

 

The bell over the café door tinkled as Geordi entered. He let out a sigh as the warm air washed over him, chasing out any hint of the crisp fall morning that had followed him inside. With a smile, he let the smell of the fresh coffee fill his lungs and the gentle chatter fill his ears. 

“Morning, Geordi,” the barista greeted him. “Your usual?”

“Yes, please!” Stepping to the register, he handed her a five-dollar bill, then made his way to the table near the windows, knowing that she would drop the change in the tip jar for him. 

Silence greeted him from the table as he approached, but he knew that quietness would soon be filled with Data’s arrival. So instead, he sat, slouching into a position that Data would definitely give him crap for when he arrived, and listened to the room around him. Someone the next table over was typing on their computer, and the music through their earbuds was just barely audible. A machine across the room hissed, momentarily disrupting Geordi’s attempt to identify the music. 

“Here’s your coffee, Geordi.”

“Oh, thanks,” he replied raising his hand to meet the hot drink.

No sooner had he taken a sip, when the bell above the door jingled. 

“Morning, Data. Your usual?” the barista greeted. 

There was a pause before Data answered. “I have never ordered a beverage from this coffee shop, therefore I fail to see what ‘my usual’ would entail.”

Geordi hid his grin as the barista informed him that it was intended as a joke.

“Ah. Thank you, Guinan.” 

A few seconds later, Data was sitting at the chair diagonal from him and starting the conversation as he always did.

“Good morning, Geordi. How are you?”

“G’morning, Data. I’m kinda tired, but much better now.” _Now that you’re here._ “How about you?”

“I am fine.” The same answer he gave every morning, and was that disappointment that was slowly draining Geordi’s residual urge to smile?

Data continued, seemingly unaware of the effect the answer had had on his friend. “I just had a curious interaction with the barista. Although I have never ordered anything at this particular coffee shop, she asked if I would like my ‘usual’.”

Geordi’s smile returned, and he laughed. “Yeah, I heard. She was just giving you a hard time.”

“‘A hard time’?”

“Yeah, like teasing.”

“Ah.” Data paused. “Do you believe she would prefer me to purchase a drink when we meet?”

Geordi shrugged. “She probably doesn’t care much one way or the other. It’s not like anyone else would be sitting in your seat if you weren’t here, and it’s busy enough in here that I don’t think they’re hurting for business very badly. Unless you _want_ to get a coffee or something, in which case, well, that’s kinda her job.”

“I see. Then, because I do not require coffee, I will continue in my pattern of simply being in your company.”

Geordi grinned. “Man, I wish I could be as awake and in as good of a mood without coffee as you always are in the mornings. So, what did you end up creating last night?”

“I decided to take your advice in merging two media. Taking inspiration from Jessie Willcox Smith, I decided to use primarily watercolor and charcoal. I began by sketching my subject, a blue jay in flight…”

As Data described his project in the detail he had come to expect and appreciate, Geordi’s mind started to drift back to their previous conversation. _Continue simply being in your company._ _Continue._ That meant being around him was a good thing, right? Something Data enjoyed? _Of course, he enjoys it_ , Geordi reasoned, _or we wouldn’t text so much. And he wouldn’t get up earlier just to come sit with me._

Geordi relaxed and let the smoothness of Data’s voice wash over him, along with the rest of the sounds of the café.

“Geordi, are you alright?”

“Hm? Oh. Sure, Data. Why do you ask?”

“You do not appear to be paying as much attention to what I am saying as you normally do.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s just…” Geordi took a deep breath. “Data, I’ve been thinking. We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and meeting for coffee in the morning is always the best part of my day—” Geordi could feel his face growing hot. “—and I think you feel the same, and I was just wondering…”

“Geordi?”

He swallowed and tilted his head towards Data. “Yeah?”

“Are you attempting to ask me to be your boyfriend?”

_Boyfriend._ Geordi savored the word for a moment as a smile grew on his face. “Yeah, I am,” he confirmed sheepishly. “So?”

Data said nothing, and instead, he heard the rustling of fabric. Then Data’s hand was cupping Geordi’s jawbone, bringing his head up and forward slightly. Suddenly Data’s lips were on his and they were kissing, _they were kissing._

But before he had hardly realized it was happening, it had stopped, and Data was pulling away. 

“Is that answer sufficient?”

Geordi felt like laughing, and as an answer that he was sure would also be “sufficient”, he reached forward, found Data’s neck, and pulled him in again. 

Data’s lips felt cool compared to Geordi’s own skin, hot — either from the coffee or adrenaline, he wasn’t quite sure. The muscles in Data’s neck and shoulders were strong, yet he was gentle, hesitant almost, when he touched Geordi. 

Geordi had no idea how long they were sitting there; time seemed to both be standing still and rushing by at an incredible pace. But when they finally broke apart, Data also broke the bad news.

“It is 8:53. You must leave now if you do not wish to be late.”

Reluctantly, Geordi brought his hand back to his previously forgotten coffee. “Yeah, I should…” he said, not standing up.

“I will remind you that you have already been late twice in the last five weeks. You should not be late again.”

_But now I have such a good excuse!_ He sighed and stood. “You’re right. As always,” he said with half a smile. 

Data stood as well, and placed a hand on Geordi’s arm. “Have a good day. I will see you again soon.”

“I think I can manage to do that. Especially now that I have a _boyfriend_ ,” he stated proudly, and he headed for the door, hearing Data return to where he had been sitting.

As the door closed behind him, Geordi found that even the cold air that greeted him couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face. He was sure he looked silly, but it didn’t matter because _Data had kissed him!_ He let that thought roll around in his mind as he pressed the crosswalk button, savoring every moment of it. _Data. The man with the even voice and comforting presence. Who brightened his morning and made it easier to get up, no matter how little sleep he had gotten._ The crosswalk tone changed to tell him to cross, so he stepped into the crosswalk. _Who had some admittedly odd mannerisms, but that made him all the more endearing. Data had kiss—_

A hard, metal object hit Geordi, and he faintly registered _car_ … before losing consciousness.


	3. Hospitality

The first thing Geordi noticed when he woke up was that his head hurt. The second thing he noticed was that he couldn’t move his right arm to touch it. Suddenly his senses were overwhelmed with noise, the sound of people yelling, cars honking, a distant siren growing slowly louder, and his ears ringing. He groaned, and again tried to reach up to touch his head, this time sending pain shooting up his arm for his trouble. Searing pain from his leg and deep throbbing from his ankle immediately followed suit, as if synchronized by some malicious god. 

“He’s awake,” a strange voice said. Female, he vaguely thought. An accent. “My name is Deanna.” The voice was nearer this time, probably kneeling next to him. “I know you’re in a lot of pain, but don’t try to move. You’re going to be alright. There are people working on getting you free.”

_Free… free from what?_ He slowly formed the word.

“The truck is on top of your cane, which is trapping your arm. There are too many cars around for it to move out of the way, and going forward would only make it worse.”

“Geordi?” 

Relief flooded over him, as the familiar voice gave him something to latch onto. “D… Data.”

“Are you alright?”

The siren grew louder as the kind voice — Deanna — spoke again. “He’s trapped; the car is on top of his cane. Can you help get it off?”

A moment later, there was the sound of metal creaking, and the pressure on his arm was released, helpfully accompanied by another burst of pain.

“Oh my word…” Deanna said softly. 

“What?” 

She paused. “Your friend just… lifted the car. All on his own.”

The siren suddenly shut off, and new voices came flooding in, cutting off Geordi’s confusion. 

“What happened?” Male.

“He was hit by a car crossing the street. His arm got pinned by his cane under the car but…” she trailed off.

“Was he unconscious?”

“Only for a minute…” Her voice faded away, answering more questions, and a new one took its place.

“What’s your name, sir?”

“Geordi. ” _Where’s Data? Data… lifted car??_

“… up?” Geordi blinked, and the voice repeated. “Geordi, can you sit up? Slowly…” 

He moved his arm and pushed against the ground, only for his arm to give way at the flash of pain. 

“Whoa, whoa, ok. We’re going to try again, only this time with your other arm, alright? I’ll help you.”

Geordi nodded, and immediately regretted that decision. Gritting his teeth, he slowly sat up with the help of his left arm. His back met the gentle pressure of foreign hands that helped ease him up. “There you go…” A moment later, he was sitting, the hands gone, and cradling his right arm. As he sat, he felt the world start to tip, first one way, then the other, then — The hands returned, centering him. But these were different hands.

“Geordi?”

He let out a breath of air. “Data. Where did you go?”

“I have been close by the entire time. I will not leave you.”

Geordi smiled slightly. “Thanks.” Then the smile faded. “The woman… she said you lifted the car?”

Data was silent for a moment, his hands the only indication that he hadn’t left. The ringing in Geordi’s ears grew.

“Excuse us, sir, we need to get him to the hospital so we can take a better look at his injuries.”

The hands that had grounded him suddenly left, and he reached out to try to feel him again. “Data? Don’t go!”

“I’m sorry, sir, there’s not enough space.”

Smaller hands this time stopped his swaying. A moment later he sucked in air through his teeth as his legs were moved, and he was lifted onto a stretcher. 

“I will meet you at the hospital, Geordi,” came Data’s voice, barely audible over the rest of the noise and chaos.

The ambulance doors closed.

 

———

 

“Geordi.” The voice was distant, but familiar. Comforting. Like a heavy blanket. “Geordi.” It repeated, and he realized it was close by. He knew that voice. 

“Data?” he croaked.

“Yes. The nurses told me to wake you at 12:15 pm.”

“Nurses… What happened? Where…?”

Data was silent for a moment. “You are at Northshore Medical Clinic and Hospital. You were hit by a vehicle while crossing the street outside of Yin and Yang Café.” He paused again. “How much do you remember?”

His eyebrows knit together as he thought back to that morning. “I remember walking out of the café and starting to cross the street. Then after that… Not much. There was a woman. She had a nice voice, but…” Geordi shook his head, then winced.

“It is inadvisable to move at the moment,” Data warned.

“Thanks, I think I figured that out,” he replied with a dry smile.

Silence filled the room for a moment, and Geordi could hear some people walking down the hall, their conversation muffled.

“The nurses have advised that you stay here for the next few hours for observation. They want to be sure that you have no internal bleeding. After that time, you will be allowed to return home.”

Geordi started to take a deep breath, but winced and clenched his jaw.

“You have four cracked ribs, primarily on your right, a grade 3 concussion, and an impact fracture in your right arm and wrist. Despite the pain, the doctor does recommend taking deep, full breaths to prevent infection and to ensure proper healing.”

“Thanks.” The room was quiet again for a moment. “Data, are you ok?”

“Yes, I am. It is you who are injured.”

“I don’t mean physically. It’s just… you sound different than normal, that’s all.”

“You are my friend. I am simply… relieved that you are alright.”

Geordi pressed his lips together. He had avoided the question. Or maybe he hadn’t, but Data’s voice had sounded — strained almost? In all their conversations previously, Data had maintained the straightforward evenness that had so intrigued Geordi when they had first met. But now… Geordi replayed the sentence in his head. Maybe he had just been imagining it. Still though, there seemed to be something he was missing.

Clearing his throat, Geordi tried to get his mind off of it. “Hey, uh, Data? Do you know what happened to my cane? And my glasses?”

There was the rustling of a plastic bag as he answered. “Your sunglasses were lost in the chaos immediately after the accident. However, before I came, I located and purchased an identical pair. The cane is currently leaning against this chair. It is damaged, but salvageable. However, I recommend purchasing an undamaged one, as a new one would be much safer.”

“Thanks, Data,” he said with a smile. “Since you apparently memorized everything the nurses said, did they say anything about being at home? ‘Specially if this dizziness is gonna stick around for a while.”

“They said that it would be unwise to be alone for a few days, but that it would be acceptable if that is your only option.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to do something unwise, now would I?” Geordi observed with half a grin.

“What are you planning to do? You have said before that your nearest family is approximately 150 miles away.” Confusion laced his voice.

“I have you.” Data said nothing, and Geordi’s stomach dropped. “Unless you don’t wanna take that step yet, I know it’s a big step, and most people have a lot longer to talk about it, and you have a job and I wouldn’t want to impose—”

“That would be acceptable.”

Geordi let out a sigh of air, relief trumping the pain the action brought. A moment passed, and his smile returned. “Not exactly how I pictured us moving in together, but I suppose this’ll work.”

 

———

 

Geordi adjusted the sheets of the bed as he flipped over. Again. With a sigh, he reached over and grabbed his phone, pressing a button.

“3:17 AM,” an automated voice announced.

He groaned. Rolling over again, he stood and made his way to the living room. Just before he turned the corner though, he paused. There had been a soft _clink,_ followed by the quiet splashing of some water. Geordi’s brows furrowed. Was that Data? _Painting?_

Slowly, he turned the corner and entered the open area. The noises stopped.

“Geordi? Are you alright? Why are you awake? Did I wake you?”

“Why are _you_ up?”

Data was quiet for a moment. “I am not tired, so I decided to continue painting.”

“Huh. Well I _am_ tired. But don’t worry, you didn’t wake me. I just can’t sleep.”

Data set down his brush and palette. “One of the side effects of a concussion is trouble sleeping. Is that perhaps the cause of your insomnia?”

Geordi shrugged. “I don’t think so. This is a normal thing for me. One of the side effects of being born blind, not a concussion.”

“Ah. Is there anything I may get for you that will assist you in sleeping?”

Geordi sighed. “No, I don’t think so. I just thought a change of location might help,” he said as he headed for the couch. Brushing his hand over the seat, he sat on the end. Spot meowed from where she lay, half asleep, alerting Geordi to her presence on the next cushion over. Leaning back, he tried to relax. Data picked up his brush again, but hesitated before beginning. He set it back down and walked to the couch. Spot meowed again, louder this time as Data picked her up. Her indignation was soon appeased though, as Data sat next to Geordi and set her back down on his lap. But, with what was almost a huff, she walked over both of them and curled up next to Geordi. Geordi smiled and moved so he was leaning against Data, who wrapped his arm around him. A moment later, Data began to hum.

“What song is that?”

Data paused. “I do not know. It is a tune that my mother used to hum for me and my siblings. I never asked what it was, and I have not been successful in determining its name from other sources.”

“Hm. It’s nice.”

“Would you like me to continue?”

Geordi smiled. “Yeah.”

As Data started the song again, Geordi let himself relax. With Data on one side and Spot on the other, he was surrounded by warmth and comfort. He knew that Data would do everything in his power to keep him safe. And with that fact in mind, Geordi finally fell asleep.


	4. The Mountain

The music from the tv gradually grew, under the audio description. “The von Trapp family walks along a steep path, mountains in the background. Captain von Trapp carries Gretl.” The music swelled, and the choir continued singing. “A dream that will need / All the love you can give / Every day of your life / For as long as you live…” 

Geordi leaned against Data, letting the music wash over him. “…Follow every rainbow / ’Til you find your dream…” 

The music gradually faded, and was replaced by the credits. 

“So?” Geordi started, placing the empty popcorn bowl on the side table. “Did you like it?”

“It was certainly a unique perspective on the second World War. Was it based on a true story?”

“I think so!”

“Fascinating. I also found the incorporation of musical elements at strategic points in the plot to be quite intriguing.”

“Ok, but did you _like_ it?”

Data paused. “The movie was aesthetically and artistically pleasing.”

Geordi shook his head with a small smile. “I’ll take that as a yes. Did you have a favorite song?”

“I believe ‘Edelweiss’ was very important both to the characters and to the plot. In particular, when the crowd joins Captain von Trapp in singing, it signifies the people’s resistance against the Nazi regime. Do you have a song that you enjoy, Geordi?”

“Yeah. When I was a kid, my mom would sing ‘Climb Every Mountain’ to me whenever I got frustrated, or scared, or discouraged… So it has a special place. It’s inspirational, ya know? You just gotta keep going, keep climbing, and you’ll find your dream.”

“Do you believe you have found that dream?”

Geordi was quiet for a moment. _Had he?_ He felt Data next to him, warm, alive, and so very real. He was studying a subject he loved, and had family and friends that encouraged and accepted him. He had food, mostly popcorn, in his stomach, clothes on his back, and a roof over his head. Geordi smiled. “It might not be complete yet, but it’s getting there.”

Reaching up, Geordi found Data’s face, and pulled him in for a kiss.

 

———

 

Geordi smiled as he listened to Data ramble on about his day, interspersed with sounds of chopping and the fridge opening and closing.

“…However, what I fail to understand is how Dr. Carlson won the game. I played a perfect match, and yet somehow he still beat me.”

Geordi shrugged. “Even if you did have a perfect game, you said yourself he’s practically a professional chess player.”

“Mm. That is true.”

“Besides, you’re only human.”

Data paused his chopping, then set down the knife. “Geordi, there is something I believe you should know,” he said, stepping towards the couch.

“Yeah, Data?” Geordi replied cautiously.

There was a moment of hesitation. “I am not human.”

Geordi froze. “Not… human?” he repeated.

“That is correct,” Data confirmed. Some part of Geordi informed him that Data’s voice sounded the same just then as it had in the past when — well, always.

A laugh bubbled up from inside of him. “That— You can’t— That’s not possible.”

The couch creaked as Data sat on the other end. “On the contrary. I am an android.”

Geordi shook his head. “No but— You said you had a— a family. And you have an apartment. And we—” _And we kissed._ Geordi’s stomach twisted.

Data elaborated, ignoring, or unaware of, the sentence Geordi had left hanging. “I was created by Dr. Noonien Soong.”

“Your father,” he whispered.

“Yes, I often refer to him as such. Dr. Soong also created two other androids, my brothers Lore and B-4. When he created me, he gave me a… desire to become as human as possible. This was the source of my endeavor to explore creativity, as many have said that creativity is a key aspect of being human.”

_Created… Desire… Creativity… how we met. Trying to become more creative. That’s why people said he couldn’t. If he can’t be creative… creativity is feeling. Feeling and then doing something with that feeling. Can —_

A hand touched Geordi’s shoulder, and he flinched.

“Geordi, are you alright?”

“Yeah— No— I—” He took a shaky breath. “I just need some time. To, uh… think,” he trailed off, standing. _Think… What would his parents think? His sister? Tasha? Tasha… What was he going to tell Tasha, she had been so excited? The coffee shop. He couldn’t go back, back to the accident, back to where they met, back to where they—_

Hands grabbed his shoulders again. “I do not believe the statement that you are alright to be accurate. Your swaying indicates that the dizziness from your accident is still affecting you.” 

“I’m fine.” Geordi tried to brush off his hands. “Let me _go._ ”

“The doctors advised against walking alone until the dizziness had fully passed. Additionally, because your knee is not fully healed, I believe it is in your best interest for you to stay.”

“Is that all you care about? Whatever’s in my ‘best interest’ for my arm or whatever? What about the rest of me? What about my… _me?_ Did you ever stop to think about what this means for _me?_ How _I_ would feel?” Geordi froze. “Do you even… have feelings? Were these past months just a— a curiosity on being human?” 

Data’s grip loosened, but he said nothing, and Geordi’s stomach dropped. “You don’t really care, do you,” he whispered. “This was all just a game for you. Well guess what,” he continued, his voice growing stronger, despite the tears burning his eyes. “I’m done with your game. I quit.” Data’s grip finally fell away as Geordi turned and made his way towards the exit.

The door slammed behind him.

 

———

 

Geordi’s cane hit something metallic. Pausing, he reached to feel what it was, then gratefully lowered himself onto the bench. His legs were shaking from adrenaline, from shock, from walking so far, though truthfully he didn’t know how far he had walked. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

It was him.

The person who— Not person. Being? — who had tricked him. Made a fool of him. Who had made him hope, made him dream, made him—

Who had made him happy.

But now that happiness was gone, pushed out by hurt, by betrayal, by whatever this knot in his stomach was.

_An android._ How had he not noticed before? In all those times he had said something slightly off, given times a bit too precisely, quoted people a bit too exactly, his refusal to use contractions, now it all seemed so obvious. 

Then again… maybe it was obvious.

Maybe somewhere in Geordi’s ‘crush-addled brain’, a part of him _had_ realized something was off, but Geordi couldn’t bring himself to face it, to face that there was something different, something _not quite human,_ about his boyf—. Because just this once, _just this once,_ something was going right, and because he couldn’t bring himself to face that it might not be perfect, it was gone. Shattered like the illusion it had been. Like a beaker in a science experiment.

Geordi swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. His phone buzzed again, just as urgently as it always had, only now it felt threatening, not exciting and reassuring. Pulling it out of his pocket, his hand hovered between ignoring the text and listening to it.

_Ignoring…_

He could move on. They could both move on. Geordi would move to a different apartment, one closer to the university, find a different café, meet new people. _He_ would… Nothing. He would do nothing, and continue on with his job and his life, and be completely unaware of the pain he had caused.

_… or listening?_

There was a small part of him that whispered that maybe just maybe this was all a cruel prank and the message was an apology and an explanation. He knew that wasn’t the case, but either way, he needed answers. Then again, it could just make everything worse. 

Geordi hesitated, then pressed a button.

> Geordi, are you alright? It is unlike your normal behavior to go an extended period of time without replying to a text message.

Geordi sighed. He must have missed a message earlier while he was walking. He pressed another button.

> I apologize for causing you unintended pain. I did not anticipate the severity of your reaction, particularly your anger.

_Did not anticip— He thought about this before and_ still _decided to keep going and he didn’t_ ‘anticipate’ _like I’m some sort of equation to figure out—_ Geordi shoved the phone away, and it clattered to the ground.

“Geordi? Geordi!” came a woman’s voice. 

Tasha.

“Geordi, are you ok?” she asked breathlessly. “What are you doing all the way out here? I thought the doctors said you shouldn’t be taking long walks yet, much less… alone?”

Geordi groaned, and his head sank into his hands. There was a quiet scraping sound, then the bench creaked. Tasha sat next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Pressing his lips together, he gestured towards the phone in her hands as way of explanation.

“What happened?”

_What happened, indeed. Everything had been going so well, and then all of a sudden… it wasn’t._

“He uh… We…” Geordi cleared his throat, then raised his head to face straight in front of him. “He isn’t… human,” he tried to state matter-of-factly. 

Geordi felt Tasha’s hand tense. “He _what_?” she whispered.

“Isn’t. Human,” he repeated, clenching his jaw. “He’s an android.”

She was silent for a moment. “Damn.”

“Yeah.”

“So… What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a sigh. “I just need some space. I can’t go back, I know that.”

“Does this mean you’re finally going to take me up on my place always being open?”

Geordi almost smiled. “Yeah, I think it does.”


	5. Quinn's

Geordi adjusted the blanket of the bed as he rolled over. Again. Groaning, he grabbed his phone.

“4:08 AM,” a computerized voice informed him.

He sighed. Flipping over, he stood and made his way to the living room. Maybe a change of location would do the trick.

The apartment building Tasha lived in was surprisingly noisy for the time of night — er, morning. Thinly insulated walls muffled the yelling of two people a door or two down the hall, as well as the elevator next door, but did little to completely silence either. He kept telling himself it was just being in a new location that was keeping him up, but a deep corner of his brain kept insisting otherwise. 

His hand brushing worn fabric, Geordi sank down onto the couch and let his mind wander. Despite his best efforts, his thoughts kept returning to the revelation. Tasha had been kind enough to go back to the apartment to explain that Geordi wasn’t coming back and grab his stuff. _He_ had, of course, let her, but not without plenty of questions of if Geordi was alright and why wasn’t he responding to his texts, and finally Tasha had just about exploded at him.

_“You don’t even realize what you did to him, do you?_ Do _you? I was seeing Geordi the happiest I’ve ever seen him, because of_ you _, and then you go and think it’s ok to leave out a little fact like_ you aren’t HUMAN?! _I won’t speak for Geordi, but speaking for myself,_ screw you. _I don’t know if Geordi will forgive you. He might, because he’s just that kind of guy. But if I were in his position? No. Way.”_

At least, that’s how she retold it. 

Geordi sighed. Would he forgive him? Geordi didn’t know. It was all too fresh, too raw, _the glass of the beaker had barely been swept up_ , and thinking about forgiveness? He couldn’t do it yet. 

A crash from down the hall startled Geordi out of his thoughts, and he debated calling the police. But, realizing that he didn’t actually know Tasha’s apartment address, he decided against it. Both voices continued yelling, so at least nobody was seriously injured. 

Bringing his knees up, Geordi curled up more on the couch. He wasn’t scared, not really. This part of town had more violence, sure, but he knew that if he ever got in any sort of trouble, Tasha would kick the responsible person’s ass.

And with that fact in mind, Geordi finally fell into a fitful sleep.

 

———

 

It was autopilot, Geordi supposed, that brought him to the Yin and Yang Café that morning. He hadn’t been there for weeks, between the accident, the… reveal, and then the memories the place brought had been so fresh, he couldn’t bring himself to enter. But that morning, somehow, he did.

“Mind if I join you?”

Geordi cocked his head at the voice that he couldn’t quite place. “Sure…”

The stool next to him scraped the floor as the person sat. “I’m Guinan.”

_Guinan…_ He had heard that name before. “Hang on, don’t you work here?” 

“Sort of. I run this place. Sometimes I make drinks, sometimes I’m in the back, and sometimes… Well, sometimes I see one of my regulars who looks like he could use a listening ear.”

Geordi let out a huff of air that was almost a dry laugh. “And what makes you think I could ‘use a listening ear’?”

"Where's your boyfriend?" Guinan asked after a moment.

"My boyf— Look, just because he's not here doesn't mean..."

Guinan was silent.

"We just had something... come up. We're taking a break, that's all." 

"Ah."

Geordi sighed and lowered his voice. “He told me something that… Well, I don’t know that I can move past it.”

“Hm. There are some things that love just can’t overcome.”

Geordi rocked forward onto his elbows. “That’s just it; I don’t know if he _does_ love me.”

Guinan leaned forward next to him. “You know, not every relationship _needs_ love. Not romantic love anyway. There are people who don’t, who can’t love people romantically, and who still maintain healthy, successful relationships.”

“Yeah, but what about not having any kind of love? Or not feeling emotions, period,” he asked softly.

“That’s something you’re going to have to figure out for yourself,” Guinan answered, standing. “Enjoy your coffee.”

 

———

 

“Ok, this is ridiculous,” Tasha said, abandoning her book and standing.

“Huh?”

“You sitting here, moping.”

Geordi straightened. “I’m not moping! I’m trying to study.”

“Yeah well, you’ve made about half a page of progress in the past hour, so I’d say it’s going _real well_ , wouldn’t you?”

He sighed. “My mind keeps wandering,” he said softly. “I just keep thinking about…” He trailed off.

Tasha’s voice softened. “Yeah, I know it’s hard. I know something that’ll help though,” she hinted, mischievousness sneaking into her voice.

“What?”

“Going out.”

Geordi sighed again. “Tasha, I can’t. I really need to study.”

“Which you’ve been doing all this morning and afternoon, even though it’s a Friday. Your brain is going to melt anyway if you don’t give it a break.”

A moment passed, and Geordi closed the book. “Ok, fine. Where are we going?”

Not fifteen minutes later, the two were climbing out of Tasha’s parked car and walking to a building. 

“Welcome to Quinn’s!” she proclaimed. As she opened the door, lively chatter and music spilled out into the street. “The number one place to get a drink around here if you don’t feel like blasting your eardrums at a nightclub.”

Geordi half smiled. “Thanks, but I don’t plan on drinking away my sorrows.”

Beside him, Tasha shrugged. “Suit yourself. Me? I plan on enjoying myself. Hey, Quinn!” she called as she sat at one of the bar stools. 

“Hey, Tash,” a voice replied. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Geordi. He’s just getting over someone, so be easy on him,” she stage-whispered. She continued in her normal voice. “Geordi, this is Quinn. They run this place.”

“Funny that,” they said wryly, “a place called Quinn’s being run by me, someone named Quinn.” They laughed. “It’s nice to meet you, Geordi. Is there anything I can get you? It’ll be on the house.”

Quinn got a smile for their efforts from Geordi. “Something a bit sweet, but virgin.” 

“I know just the thing. Tash?”

“A beer to start off. You know what I like, so surprise me.”

“Really? Challenge accepted. I’ll have those two mystery drinks right out for you guys.”

“Thanks, Quinn,” Tasha called after them. 

Geordi sat on the stool next to Tasha and rested his elbows on the bar. “You two seem to know each other pretty well. Have you been coming here for a while?”

“Not really. Quinn’s just one of those people, ya know? They’re so friendly, and we just seemed to click.”

“Yeah, I do know.”

It was quiet between them for a moment.

“So are you friends, or… more?”

“I like to think we are friends. But… just friends.” Tasha sighed softly.

Geordi was just formulating a response, when Quinn returned. “We have one virgin Heartbreaker’s Redemption,” they said, sliding a martini glass in front of Geordi, “and a Golden Night Delight Ale.” Another glass slid to Tasha. “Enjoy! And Tash? I’m pretty sure you’ll be surprised,” they said, a smile on their voice.

“I hope so,” Tasha replied, returning the smile.

No sooner had they started on their drinks than someone called out to them.

“Nat! You and your friend up for some darts?”

She twisted around and stood. “Of course!”

“Uh, Tasha?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll just stay here, ok?”

Tasha placed a hand on his arm. “You might not be able to see, but I’m still introducing you to my friends. Come on!”

Soon, they had made their way to the dart board, and names were flying by. 

“Hey,” one of them — was it Will? — started, “we’re short a person on our team. Wanna give it a try?”

Geordi hesitated, making sure he heard him right. “ _Me_?” He paused. “You realize I’m totally blind, right?”

“A blind player is better than no player at all!”

A chorus of agreement chimed in, and Geordi let out an incredulous laugh. “If you say so,” he said, and a dart was pressed into his hand.

“Ok,” Tasha said, turning his shoulders slightly. “The board is straight in front of you, ten feet. Just throw it as hard as you can. You’ll be fine, there’s nothing you can break.”

A smile played at Geordi’s lips and he shook his head. “I hope so.” And, winding up, he did just as she said.

There was a dull _thunk._

The rest of the players were silent.

“What? What’d I do?”

“Dude… Are you _sure_ you’re blind?” a player said.

“Last I checked. Why?”

“’Cause you just got a bullseye.”

Geordi laughed, then paused. “Seriously?”

In response, Tasha grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the wall. Taking his hand, she guided it to the edge of the board, then in through the concentric circles. Crossing the threshold of the smallest one, he finally felt the dart and pulled it out.

“I… got a bullseye?”

“Yup. Man, I should have brought you to dart night a long time ago!”

Geordi half smiled. “I’m afraid this was a one-time event. I’d be happy to spectate though.”

Tasha sighed and handed him his drink. “Ok. Want me to help you find an empty spot or are you good?”

“I think I can manage.”

Extending his cane, Geordi made his way to the other end of the bar, away from the noise of the games and the band. Finding an empty booth, he sat heavily on the cushioned bench. With a sigh, he took off his glasses and let his head fall into his hands. After a moment, he took another sip of his drink. _Heartbreaker’s Redemption._ Geordi laughed ruefully and wondered if Quinn really knew how fitting that was. Would he drink it? That remained to be seen.

“Quinn,” Tasha called from the other end of the bar, “I’m gonna need another one of these soon.”

“Told ya you’d like it,” Quinn called back.

He ran his thumb up and down the stem of the glass. If _he_ was here, Geordi wouldn’t just be sitting here while Tasha got herself drunk. They’d be talking about art, or science, or whatever weird quirk about someone that he had noticed that day, and he’d ask Geordi why that was, and Geordi would try to think of _something_ to satisfy his curiosity. And they’d banter and talk about nothing and everything.

Geordi sighed, bored and disappointed.

As the evening wore on, Tasha would periodically pop by Geordi’s table and give him increasingly drunken reports on the progress of the dart game, the band, or whatever else she had been doing. Quinn, to their credit, would also stop by when they could and check on him, occasionally with another drink in tow. Eventually, enough of Tasha’s friends had left that she wanted to go home.

“Hey, Geord, ready ta go?” she slurred, half running into the table where he sat.

Geordi raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I am.” He stood, and Tasha immediately slung her arm over his shoulders as Geordi led the way to the door.

“Hey, Tash!” Quinn’s call stopped Geordi, and Tasha turned back to Quinm. “You weren’t planning on driving home, were you?”

“He’s my des— desigm—designated driver!” Tasha informed them loudly, pointing to Geordi.

He paused. “Tasha—”

Quinn spoke at the same time, approaching Tasha. “I’m sure having your blind friend drive is going to end _really_ well. Though,” they muttered, “at this point it might end better than _you_ driving.” They addressed Geordi. “If I get her a taxi, can you get her home?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Thanks. I’ll make sure her car is ok until tomorrow too.”

“Thank you!” Tasha said loudly. Suddenly she leaned over and kissed Quinn on the lips.

Quinn was quiet for a moment. Then, “I’ll go call a taxi.”

A few minutes later, the taxi had arrived, and Tasha was flirting up a storm with the driver. Soon, the cab was pulling up to the apartment building, and Geordi was ushering Tasha into the elevator and into her room. 

“Quinn is very nice,” she said, the words barely intelligible as she flopped on her bed.

“Yes, they are. Good night, Tasha.”

“Night-night, Geordi.”

 

———

 

> Geordi, I would like to apologize. Will you meet me at the Yin and Yang Café on Sunday at 11:00 am?

>>

>> Yes.


	6. Dessert

Geordi’s leg was bouncing. Tasha placed her hand on his knee, and it stopped. He started tapping his fingers. Tasha moved her hand and rested in on his arm, and his knee resumed. Tasha sighed. 

Geordi swallowed. “I’m sorry, I’m just so nervous I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” she intoned.

“I just keep thinking, what is he going to do? I mean, I know he said he wanted to apologize, but what is he going to say? What am _I_ going to say? What if—”

“Geordi, relax. It’ll be fine. This is what you brought me here for, remember? ‘Make sure I don’t go out of my mind with all the what-ifs’. Just… try to think about something else.”

“Like _what_?” 

The bell above the door jangled, and Geordi started. The footsteps approached the table where Tasha and Geordi sat, and the knot in his stomach tightened.

“Hello, Geordi.”

Geordi’s mouth went dry as he tried to think of what to say.

“Hey,” Tasha said. “Have a seat; stay a while.”

The chair scraped against the floor, a grating sound in the otherwise subdued café. He placed a bag on the table. 

Geordi finally managed to speak. “What’s that?”

“My research showed that the gifting of food is an acceptable part of an apology,” he explained over the rustling of the bag. “In particular, a food that the recipient of the apology would characterize as a favorite.” A smell finally wafted towards Geordi.

“Are those… chocolate muffins?”

“Yes. You have, on more than one occasion, mentioned your appreciation of the pastry.”

“Mind if I have one?” Tasha interjected.

“Please. Because of that appreciation, I believed these to be a fitting accompaniment to my apology.”

A moment later, some sounds that could be interpreted as “OH MY GOD These are delicious!” came from Tasha’s direction. Geordi half smiled, the knot in his stomach loosening slightly.

A lull fell over the table.

“It was wrong of me to not inform you that I am not human. I have caused you emotional pain, and I would like to remedy that in any way I can. Even if you cannot accept me into your life again, I hope that you will accept my apology and forgive me.”

Geordi’s heart hurt, and he scrambled to think of what to say. “I…” _I do, I forgive you, I haven’t been able to sleep without you, I want you back, I accept it, I…_ Suddenly, all the words and phrases flying around landed, and there was peace. “I’ve missed you,” he said softly.

He was quiet for a moment. “And I you, Geordi.”

Geordi let out a breath of air. “Thank you. Thanks for being honest and for apologizing, and I do forgive you and I do accept your apology, and… and I want you back in my life, Data.”

Reaching forward, Geordi placed a gentle hand on the side of Data’s head. Leaning towards him, they connected once again.

 

———

 

“Hm…” Geordi ran through his favorite flavors, trying to decide what he was in the mood for today. “You guys have mint chocolate chip?”

“Yessir,” the teenage boy behind the counter answered. “I just got out a brand new tub, so you could have the first scoop!”

Geordi laughed. “Sounds good. How about you, Data?”

“I would not enjoy the experience as you would, so I see no need to purchase any dessert.”

The boy spoke up again. “You don’t like ice cream?” he exclaimed, incredulous. “How can you not like it? _Everybody_ likes ice cream!”

Geordi half smiled. “Kid’s right, Data. Ice cream is part of the ‘human experience’,” he said, nudging him. 

“Ah. I will have mint chocolate chip.”

“Comin’ right up!”

Soon, they each had a large scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream on sugar cones and were sitting outside in the spring sunshine. Geordi leaned back into the bench and lifted his face towards the warmth. Smiling, he tasted the cold treat, savoring the creamy mint interspersed with crackles of chocolate.

A moment later, his reverie was interrupted by an audible crunch beside him. Geordi paused mid-lick.

“Data… Did you just _bite_ your ice cream?”

It was relative quiet for a moment as Data emptied his mouth to speak. “Yes. As it is food, and one generally bites food, I surmised that this was the appropriate way to consume ice cream. Was I mistaken?”

Geordi laughed. “Well, when it’s in a cone, most people just lick the ice cream until it’s even with the cone, and _then_ they bite it. But, you can eat it however you want,” he explained. 

“Ah. In that case, I shall begin licking my ice cream instead. Thank you for your guidance.”

“No problem. So? How is it?”

Data paused. “There is a high concentration of lactose and sucrose, as well as menthol, cocoa, triglycerides, lecithin, carrageenan.”

With half a grin, Geordi shook his head. “Incredible.”

“‘Incredible’?” Data echoed.

Geordi laughed slightly. “Yeah.”

“Did I not answer your question?”

A moment passed before he answered. “Not really. But you know what? It was perfect anyway.” Leaning over, he attempted to place a small kiss on Data’s cheek, but ended up kissing about half of his ear as well.

Reaching up, Data’s hand, pleasantly cool despite the sun, tilted his face, and their lips met briefly. 

“I am… pleased that you think so.”


	7. Surprise

"Geordi, I have a surprise for you that I believe you will enjoy."

A smile played at Geordi's lips. "Really? And what might that be?"

"Please extend your hands."

Doing so, a smooth band of metal was placed in his hands. It curved at an even angle, almost making a half circle. Both ends had a couple of nodes on the outside, and the rest of the band was covered with small ridges.

"It is called the Visual Instrument and Sensory Organ Replacement, or VISOR,” Data explained. “This system relies on the fact that the visual receptors in your brain are fully functional, even if your optical nerves and eyes are not. A surgery will be required to implant the ports through which the VISOR will send electromagnetic readings about your surroundings to your visual cortex. In effect, this will allow you to see. There will, however be some differences. For instance, you will—” Data stopped. “Geordi, is there something wrong? I anticipated that you would experience excitement, but your body language appears to suggest otherwise.”

Geordi set down the VISOR, the knot in his stomach growing. He hesitated, searching for the words. “It’s just… I mean, I appreciate the sentiment, but…”

“Yes?”

He let out a sigh of air. “Data, I was born like this. It took me a long time, and I went through some rough patches, but it’s a part of me, and I like who I am. I’m not ashamed of it.”

“And you believe that using this device to ‘see’ would show that you are ashamed.”

“Exactly! I appreciate it, I really do, Data. I just think maybe I’m not the type of person this was intended for.”

Data was quiet for a moment. “I have found that humans often prefer a period of time to think before making a significant decision. Perhaps you may benefit from that tradition in this instance.”

“Ok,” Geordi said with a sigh. “I’ll think about it. No guarantees though.”

 

———

 

“ _VISOR?”_ Tasha repeated.

“Yeah, that’s what he called it.”

“And it would allow you to _see_?”

“Yeah,” Geordi said with a heavy sigh.

Tasha mirrored his sigh. “Wow.”

A fleeting smile danced across Geordi’s lips, but quickly faded. “Data was so excited about it, too.”

“But…?”

“But… it feels like I’m cheating, somehow. Like I’m ashamed of being blind and I’m trying to hide it.”

“Mm…” Tasha was quiet for a moment. “I don’t think it’s _cheating_ really to be using it. I mean, your cane is a tool you use to be able to live your life. Same with the adaptations on your phone. You could think of the VISOR as kind of like that,” she suggested.

“That is one damn advanced cane.”

Tasha laughed. “So, the analogy isn’t perfect.”

“No, it’s not. My phone and my cane let me get around, communicate, have a normal life. I don’t _need_ anything else to be happy. I have a job, I have a boyfriend, I have a great family.” Geordi half smiled. “I’ve got a great wingwoman.”

“Even if my job is now done,” Tasha interjected.

Geordi’s smile faded. “I guess I just don’t want to disappoint Data.”

The table creaked as Tasha leaned forward and placed a hand on his. “Of course you don’t. Nobody sets out in the morning aiming to disappoint someone they love. It sucks to be disappointed and it sucks to disappoint, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that a relationship where your most important decisions are based on fear of disappointment? That’s not a relationship that’s going to last.”

 

———

 

“You’ll have some pain when you wake up, since your nerves will be trying to adapt to the new implants.” The surgeon sighed. “Other than that, to be honest we don’t know what all of the side effects will be.”

“That’s what I get for being a guinea pig, huh?” Geordi asked, forcing a smile from where he half lay in the bed.

Data placed his hand on Geordi’s. “Geordi, if you are not certain…”

He let out a breath of air. “No, I am. Nervous, but… Yeah, I want to do this.”

“We need to finish prepping for the surgery, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Mr. Soong.”

Data bent down and placed a kiss on Geordi’s forehead. “I will be here when you wake up.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

 

———

 

Geordi woke up with his brain on fire.

Nurses came running.

The world slowly became numb.

 

———

 

A rhythmic beeping eased its way slowly but surely into Geordi’s consciousness. Groaning, he tried to push it away. 

_don’ wanna geddup_

“Geordi?”

_who…_

“Geordi, are you awake?”

He tried placing the voice. “Data?”

“Yes. How are you?”

“Ever’thin’ is… fuzzy.”

“The nurses have given you medication to relieve the pain.” _He was… closer?_ “When you awoke three hours ago, you were in significant pain.”

“Huh. Fuzzy is nice.”

The beeping asserted itself again.

“Your primary nurse, Nurse Ogawa, warned that I should not tire you. I will return later.”

Tears pricked at his eyes. “No…”

“Geordi, I must go. They may not let me back tomorrow if I do not.”

“But…”

Data leaned over and kissed him. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

Geordi sniffled. “Ok.”

 

———

 

After a week of observation and gradual reduction of pain medication, Nurse Ogawa released him to go home with Data. Soon, it was time for the big test.

“You ready?” Tasha asked.

Geordi took a breath and nodded. Data placed the VISOR in his hands. Cautiously, he guided it towards his temples. It clicked into place.

A moment passed.

Suddenly he was overwhelmed with shapes and colors that were nearly indistinguishable amid the noise and chaos. He yanked it off. Hands shaking, he set the VISOR on the table. 

“Was it not effective?”

Letting out a breath, Geordi shook his head. “No, it was. It’s just… it’s a lot.”

“It’s ok, just take your time,” Tasha reassured.

“Right.” He cleared his throat, adjusted his grip, then lifted it again. This time, he was able to brace himself for the images bursting into his mind.

Looking up across the table, he noticed that the figure to the left was the shorter of the two. “Tasha,” he breathed. She nodded, and Geordi turned to the other figure. Data. He was taller, and his hair was smoother than Tasha’s. But perhaps most remarkably, there was a distinct glowing aura surrounding him that was absent from Tasha.

A smile spread across Geordi’s face. “How did I manage to find the most beautiful man alive,” he said softly, “without ever seeing him?”

Data tilted his head, and Geordi vaguely wondered how many times he had done that and he had been oblivious. However many it was, Geordi decided, it was far too many. “Geordi, I am the only male you have seen. Therefore, because beauty is subjective and requires a point of reference, is it not premature to declare me ‘the most beautiful man alive’?”

Geordi grinned. “I don’t think so. Besides, I already knew I had great tastes.”

“And,” Tasha hinted, “Data has great tastes in art.”

He looked curiously at Data, who stood. “While you recovered from your surgery, I endeavored to paint a creative piece that I believed you would enjoy.”

Geordi stood as well, and the world in front of him rocked. Gripping the table, he froze, then lowered himself back into the chair. “Maybe I’ll stay here.”

“I will return shortly.”

As Data disappeared, Tasha spoke. “So? What’s it like?”

“It’s… beautiful. I can see you, the couch, Spot… I can see everything.”

A door closed, signaling Data’s return, and Geordi turned to face him. In his arms was a dark canvas depicting a scene of silhouetted trees. In the foreground, two figures sat, one leaning his head on the other’s shoulder. But it was the backdrop that caught Geordi’s eye. The sky was filled with stars, but they weren’t merely pinpricks of light. They seemed to twirl and spin around each other in a magnificent celestial dance. 

“Does this meet with your approval?”

Geordi shook his head and laughed. “Data, this is incredible. Thank you.”


	8. Dream

Silva La Forge ran her hands over the front of her dress, and looked up to see Geordi smiling at her.

“What? Is my necklace backwards? Does my hair look ok?”

Geordi shook his head. “No, you look wonderful. I’ll just never get tired of looking at you.”

She smiled back and sighed. Reaching up, she cradled his face and placed a kiss on his cheek. “I am so proud of the man you have grown up to be. And I am _so_ happy that you have found someone to spend the rest of your life with.”

One of the ushers poked his head through the door. “It’s time. Are you ready?”

Looking at his mother, Geordi offered her his elbow. She accepted it, and the two walked through the doors. As they approached the front, Geordi saw Tasha sitting in one of the seats, Quinn beside her. He smiled and gazed to the front of the church. His sister stood along the side, his niece in front of her as the flower girl. She was flanked by the rest of his cousins, while Data’s brothers stood along the other side. But in the middle by the priest, Data stood, radiant in his suit. 

Between his nerves and everything else going on, Geordi didn’t hear much of what the priest said in his speech. Soon though, it was finished, and the ceremony had almost come to an end. There was one last piece of business, however.

“Do you, Data Soong, promise to protect and cherish Geordi, to give him the best of yourself, and offer him everything you are? Do you promise to make him the most important aspect of your life and to increasingly love him every day?”

“I do.”

“And do you, Geordi La Forge, promise to stand with and support Data, to love what you know of him, and trust what you do not yet know? Do you eagerly anticipate the chance to grow together, and do you promise to find new ways to fall in love every day?”

“I do.”

“Then I pronounce you, Geordi La Forge, and you, Data Soong, to be lawfully wedded. You may kiss.”

Geordi gazed at Data — his new husband, and smiled. “I love you, Data.”

Data smiled back softly. “I love you as well, Geordi.”

 

———

 

If you had asked Geordi in that moment if he had found his dream, he might have said yes. He might have said, dreams aren’t easy. And it wouldn’t be easy, they both knew that. But they had worked through their troubles so far, and they would continue to work for the relationship and, more importantly, for each other. 

If you had asked Geordi if he had found his dream, he might have said yes. But he also might have said no. He might have said that maybe dreams aren’t a single moment in time, but a process, or a journey, or a series of events that individually might seem nice but insignificant, but when combined produce a lifetime of joy. 

Maybe, just maybe, he would have said that dreams never come without mountains to climb.


End file.
